Evolution
by Em Mindelan
Summary: S/V Angst - Sequel to "Catharsis" - NOW COMPLETE
1. Growth

AUTHOR'S NOTES – 

I've decided that this is going to be a trilogy [or at least a duology]. The tentative title for the entire trilogy is "Passion", a very versatile word, I've learnt….;) :D  
  
The first part is about purging the emotions. ["Catharsis"]. The second is about growth ["Evolution"]. The third is about new life ["Renaissance"].  
  
Each part should have four individual chapters/parts....this is the first chapter of the second part.

DISCLAIMER - I don't own them!  
TIMEPERIOD - Set during "Rendezvous" [as in, just before we go to Taipei and Vaughn gets trapped...and hello, Angstville...]****

DISTRIBUTION – Cover Me

SUMMARY – Sydney and Vaughn, and a heck of a lot of angst. This is not a happy fic right now, okay? But it will end up…um, happier. 

**Evolution**

_Growth_

Last time neither of you spoke before you left.

He kisses you gently as you leave this time, and holds you in his arms for a few moments before you go.

He's gentle, kind, caring.

He's said what needs to be said.

* * *

One day he walks in and is all business with you. [_Yes. These are counterfeit. Do you have any questions about the mission?_]__

You don't understand it. [_No, I do not. Vaughn... what's going on?_]

He leaves quickly once he's given you your countermission. [_I should go. Good luck._]

You sit there for a little while, wondering where Vaughn [_friendloverconfidante**ally**_] has gone, and why he's been replaced with Agent Vaughn [_professionalcoldstrictsternserious]._

You get up and leave eventually, confused and concerned, but figuring out that you'll snoop around and find out eventually what's up with Vaughn.

You walk out of the warehouse only to see Vaughn sitting on the bonnet of your car, an unreadable expression on his face.

You sit down beside him and wait for him to speak.

"Syd…"

"Vaughn, what's up?" 

You watch him struggle to form the thoughts inside his head into coherent sentences.

"For a long time…people have been telling me I'm too attached to you. Too emotionally involved. In Denpasar…when I saw you fighting Sark…I knew they were right."

You frown at him, not entirely sure what he's saying. You have a…interesting relationship, to say the least. There's one part of it that's professional…one part that's definitely not. You used him to purge your pain and your lies and the guilt you feel from the blood on your hands, and he used you to get rid of the anger and hurt he feels still over his father's death. 

_This relationship is twisted, to put it bluntly. _

"Vaughn, I don't understand what you're saying."

That brings a chuckle from him. "Neither do I."

You watch him, still struggling to put his feelings into words.

"I didn't ask for this. I didn't want this. I had a perfectly normal life. A girlfriend who, if she was not "the One", was the closest I'd ever seen. I had friends who didn't think I was nuts, or under alien influence, or something like that. I had a _normal life. I went to work, I did some paperwork, shuffled some files around, then came home. It was an ordinary job. Nothing too out of the ordinary, except that maybe some of the files would be classified. Then one day I'm told that Devlin has a walk in."_

[_Tell him he has a walk in._]

"I go into the room, with a cup of coffee, and a sandwich, expecting some nut, some loony, like the countless thousands of previous walk-ins Eric and I have been assigned to deal with. Instead, I see this woman."

You wait as he pushes the words out. This isn't easy for him, you can tell.

"This woman with bozo red hair." He sighs. 

You stifle a giggle here. You know you shouldn't be laughing at this. But the hair was pretty red, you admit to yourself. 

"She's sitting there, writing furiously. She's like no one I've ever met before. I'm both fascinated and a little scared by her. She's experienced so much pain, so much death and grief, and is still hard as nails. She's beautiful, even with the tears and the hair, and she's tough and she's.....she captivates me. Do you know what it's like to want someone more than life itself? To spend every waking moment wishing that you were with them? 

They say that sometimes you have moments of absolute clarity in your life. At that moment, the very first moment I met her, I knew she was everything I wanted, and everything that I was forbidden to have. 

Sydney, there are good reasons why there are rules governing agent-handler relationships. There are reasons why what we do, what we have done is wrong-"

"Vaughn." I interrupt him mid-sentence. "Do you honestly believe that what we have done is wrong?"

"Yes. I mean, no! It was right and it was wrong and it was everything that we shouldn't have done and everything that we should be able to do…" 

"Would you do it again?"

His breath is ragged now, remembering the warehouse, remembering the chain link fence, remembering the bloodmobile, remembering pushing you up against the wall…

Finally he gets his breathing under control enough to mutter harshly, "Yes."

"Then Vaughn, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm too emotionally attached to you. I'm saying I am falling love with you, and I'm saying that if I was still sane, I'd have handed in my resignation as your handler weeks ago.

Ever since I met you, I haven't had a normal life. Did you know that I can't sleep when you're on missions? Well, I can't-"

You interrupt him again with a kiss. And the kiss says everything that needs to be said. Or so you think. He breaks away from you, locks his eyes, intense, a little angry, and oh so green on yours. 

"Don't think you can shut me up by doing this. We need to talk. I don't know how to live like this, Syd. I'm lying to everyone. My best friend, my colleagues, my boss….Syd, how do you live like this?"

You don't know how to reply to this. 

Because you don't know how you live with the lies. But somehow you just do. 

"You live. And you lie, and you breathe."

The trick is to keep breathing. Breathe, and everything will be all right. [_The easiest person to lie to is yourself_.]

You kiss him again, and this time he doesn't pull away. Your lips meet his, and his hands are around you, and you have his hair in your hands, holding firmly, pulling slightly, and then his hands are everywhere on you, and the bittersweet emotions are making it hard for you to think, because his lips are there on yours, and you can feel him up against you, and you're holding on for dear life because you don't know what else you can hold onto and because he may be standing on sinking sand, but you're floating in the sea without a life jacket, and there's only so long that you can be strong for. 

It is the kiss of two desperate people, both searching for something more than their lives. It is the kiss of two people trapped in a cage of pain, of guilt, of grief, of hurt, and above all, a cage of lies. It's the kiss of two people who realise that the only time they feel anything anymore is when they're together and when they're moving like this and it's the hungry kiss of two people alone in the world besides themselves, fighting to make the other realise the pain that they're causing. 

But above all, it's the kiss of two people wanting to be free to grow.   
  


And before you know it, you've pushed him back inside the warehouse, and this time it's all about truth, and breathing, and growth and the importance of having an ally when you're alone in the world. It is bittersweet this time, pain and passion, the two edges of this double sided sword called love. 

As your bodies move together, you feel his pain and his anger, his incredible need and frustration from wanting something he is forbidden to have, from being captivated by the one person he cannot touch….you feel what he has sacrificed to you and because of you [_hisfatherhisgirlfriendhisnormallife**truth**_], and you feel like crying because you know you'll only hurt him in the end. 

And just before you collapse on his shoulder, you whisper, "I'm sorry."

Sorry for coming into your life, sorry for screwing up your perfect, normal world [_only a person who has had a normal life taken away from them can truly appreciate its value], sorry that your mother killed your father, sorry that you have to lie to your friends [__I've accepted that it's a gesture of love to deceive those that I care about], sorry that you fell in love with me, because I only hurt the ones I love, and I don't want to hurt you, because I don't need any more blood on my hands and I don't need another grave to visit. _

I'm sorry, Vaughn. Because I love you too.

_Please read and review! And yes, I'm well aware I switched point of view in that last paragraph…well, I didn't, __Sydney__ did. And I tried to switch it back when I realised, but it really doesn't sound as good. Rest assured, we'll be back in second person Sydney POV next chapter for sure. _

_Next stop: __Taipei__. [Otherwise known as Angstville]. And yes, that was an evil laugh you heard emerging from my Batcave._


	2. Black Widow

Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter!

TIMEPERIOD - Set during "Almost Thirty Years", with flashbacks to events in "Growth" [which was set during Rendezvous, albeit in an alternate universe...]

DISCLAIMER - I don't own them! The quote is by Sir Walter Scott [not Shakespeare as many believe!]

DEDICATION - To my most dedicated reader and reviewer, angela, [aka angvau57], who gives me incredibly long and detailed and quote-filled and inspiring and flattering reviews. :D Thanks again! :D

**Evolution**

_Black Widow_

Before you left the warehouse where he told you he was falling in love with you, you told him that you loved him.

Softly, quietly you whispered to him as you lay in his arms, feeling safe like you did nowhere else, 

"I'm falling in love with you too, Vaughn."

Simple words, but they said all you needed to say. 

You gathered up your clothes, and dressed slowly, almost ritualistically while he watched you.

That was the last time he would hold you in his arms, you think to yourself. The last time he would kiss you and nothing else would matter.

At least he died knowing you loved him as well, you think. 

He had tried to stop you going. [_He's contacted you, hasn't he? And he wants the page. You're going to give it to him._]

But when you insisted on going, he just said that he would come with you. [_If you're doing what I think you're doing, I'm in if you need me.]___

So you went to Taipei with him in those ridiculous disguises. You remember being far too pleased to see him shove the guy leering at you into a wall. 

  
Then you separated. You went to find the device [_Vaughn, it's bigger than I thought.] _

He went to disable the cameras, to make your job that little bit easier like he always does.

  
Then you met up again, him in that leather jacket that made it hard to think about what you really should have been doing when all you wanted was to shove him up against the wall and do things to him that would be illegal in many, many countries, you in that too-revealing-for-its-own-good outfit with the blue hair that made you feel hideous, but when he looked at you, you could tell he was having similar thoughts about the wall, and that made you feel a little bit better….

You meet him at the end of a hallway, you running away from the water coming from the device, him running towards you. And he stops and you grab him and try and pull him down the hall and then you see the door and you open it and you see him running and you try and shut it and you can't and then it's his face up against the glass, and you watch him drown…

                                                * * *

You sit in an uncomfortable position on an uncomfortable chair, your hands cuffed behind your back.

You're numb again. 

The bloodstains have returned to your hands, and you can't feel anything and all you can see is his face up against the glass, those last few moments replayed over and over and over and over and over and _ohgodi'vedoneitagaini'vekilledhim___

_Ohgodvaughnnonononononono___

You have more blood on your hands.

What sort of a sick world is this, you wonder? 

You hurt all those that you love. You curse them with your kiss, perhaps. Or maybe you [_or your love] devour them. You remember doing a project on the black widow spider when you were younger [__a science project, you think] and being both appalled and almost fascinated by how it ate its mate after their coupling. _

You are a black widow, you think to yourself. You love a man and he dies. 

Danny died in a bathtub for the crime of not knowing enough about the unseen shadows in this world to be careful about entrusting things to answering machines. [_Can I live in the dark? And the answer is... the only answer I came up with, __Sydney__, was... was yes. Syd, I don't care. The whole world's a nightmare anywhere. It's all dangerous. No matter what we do.] _

Yes, Danny, you think to yourself, the world is dangerous. Your world is dangerous above all others. It's dangerous, and it's a nightmare, and it's a dark place with evil in every corner. It's a place where you don't know if the next person you pass in the street could be a man planning to kill you. It's a place where people like you are victims. Where people like you [_good men and women] are victims, and sacrificial lambs. Yes, you think to yourself, your world is a dangerous place._

A single tear rolls down your cheek as you remember the feeling of the grin on your face, the curious stares, and the cries of "Congratulations" after he got down on his knees and started to sing. [_Why do you build me, build me up buttercup, just to let me down and mess me around?_ _So build me, build me up buttercup, don't break my heart..]_

But you broke his heart [_someone put a knife through it_] and he broke your heart, and you were only just starting to put it back together again, only just starting to breathe again, when you killed Noah. 

Noah died because you killed him, because he was an assassin, because your love for him drove him into deep cover ops and into that line of work and because he had to do one more job…and you killed him. Killed him with your bare hands, in cold blood. Then you held his head in your hands and you cried because the bloodstains on your hands were darker now, and because you had, sometime, somewhere, actually cared for him, even a little, and at one time maybe you even loved him, you knew he loved you, because that's why he left, and because now you had killed another one you had loved and because you were so sick of this life and these deaths and the lies and the pain and the blood. So you held his head as he died. [_I tried to keep you from this... I want you to know that...]_

And another tear joins the one already on your cheek, and you blink back the tears as you sit in that chair.

Look at Will, you think. Tortured and beaten for hours for information about SD-6 he never had, then put in a CIA safe house, thinking that he was safe, thinking that maybe things would be all right, and then to be kidnapped by Sark from the place where he should have been safest. 

  
He never would have been involved in any of this without you, never would have even had a murder to investigate in the first place if it wasn't for you, never would have been involved in this whole twisted maze of lies and pain that you call your life if it wasn't for the fact that he cared for you, had a crush on you…was in love with you. 

Oh, you've known that Will's been in love with you for years now. It's flattering, in some ways…in other ways it's just…hard. Because you can't love him back the way that he would like, and you know that it broke his heart every time he saw you and Danny together, and you know that it'll break his heart again to meet Vaughn…[_ohgodohgodohgodnopleasenonotvaughntakemeinstead_] 

The memories come rushing back, and then you're trapped inside a slow motion replay of his death. 

You can see the water roaring up behind him, and you're screaming silently at him to run, run, run, run, get away, get away, get away, get away, but he's a thousand miles away and he can't hear you and he can't run fast enough anyway, and he's up against the door, and you're trying to get the door open, and your hands bleed from trying to force the door but that doesn't matter, because he's there, and you have to help him, you don't want [_don't need_] more blood on your hands, don't want to lose him, can't lose your rock in this world…

And then you're hit from behind, and it's all black, and then you're sitting on a chair with your arms handcuffed behind you, and you're almost drowning but you're numb and you can feel the emotions but you can't, you're hovering at the edge of a cliff, and there's a deep sea on one side and there's nothing on the other and you can either dive off and take your chances in the water [_you wonder if even the deepest ocean could wash away this much blood] or if you should just surrender to the nothingness and give up. _

You take your chances in the sea, and you surrender to the pain and you flounder around in the water for awhile and immerse yourself so deep in your emotions that all it is is emotion and that's all it is and the memories are gone, and it's just a stream of different emotions, each conjuring up a single different image…

_Vaughn**love**_hugging_**love**_you_**love**_as_**love**_you_**love**_cry_**love**_in_**love**_his_**love**_arms__

_Sloane**hate**__trying**hate**__to**hate**__justify**hate**__killing**hate**__Danny___

_His**desire**__lips**want**__on**need**__yours___

_Blood**guilt**__on**pain**__your**hurt**__hands___

You're crying now, from the sheer range of emotions you experience, but you don't care [_don't know], and you've just let go of everything and you're in a kind of free fall, and there's nothing to hold onto [_you're holding onto him for dear life because you don't know what else you can hold onto_] because he's gone and he was the only thing keeping you sane, the only thing freeing you [__even only temporarily] from your cage of lies, because he knew the truth about you [_he knows you have blood on your hands_], and he cared about you [__he loves/**loved you] anyway. **_

He was doing his job [_and a little bit more_] and he looked after you and he was your guardian angel and in the end it was the angel who ended up falling, and you're crying and shaking and sobbing because you loved him so much because he knew the truth, damnit, and you loved him and you wanted to have a normal life with him, you wanted to give him back his normal life [_Did you know that I can't sleep when you're on missions?_] and you wanted to be free with him, free to go to that hockey game, or even to look at him in public, and you just wanted to be free and he was that freedom, because he knew all your secrets and your lies and you didn't have to lie to him, and he didn't lie to you and it's all too much to bear and you want to cry and you are crying and it's out of control and you're flying and you're falling and you're drowning and all you feel is the emotion and little flashes of memory, little snippets of the twisted and tangled web of lies ironically called your "life". 

_Oh, what a tangled web we weave/when first we practice to deceive._

And then it stops. 

He places a bowl of food in front of you. [_You should eat something.]_

You speak, but you don't remember what you say. 

[_Wait. I have questions for you._]

He replied, and some small part of your brain processed his words and formulated a response. 

[_You can ask my boss._]

[_Your boss?_ I thought the Man was the boss_.]___

[_Yes. Yes, but I am not the Man._]

Then a woman walks in, and your heart stops.

[**I have waited almost thirty years for this.**]

And you're flying again, back in the sea of emotions as you mutter/sob/shout/gasp/mumble/murmur "**Mom?**"

And then it all goes black. 


	3. Cocoon

DISCLAIMER - Still don't own them...if you do own them, can I have them for my birthday? Please? Lyrics from "Bring Me To Life" by Evanescence [again, something I don't own], and the poetry is from a poem by Oscar Wilde [now *that's* a writer]. But, again, it's something I don't own.

**Evolution**

_Cocoon_

_Wake me up_

_Wake me up inside_

_Call my name and save me from the dark_

_Save me_

_Save me from the nothing I've become_

_Only you are the life among the dead. _

****

**_Bring me to life___**

_            - "Bring Me To Life", Evanescence_

You hold a gun to your head, and you wonder whether or not anyone would really care if you pulled the trigger.

**You have no family, really.   
  
**

Your mother, just a few hours ago, tried to kill you. [_Tell me... Sydney... who sent you here? You must tell me._]

You didn't particularly care to play Twenty Questions with the mother who had abandoned [_betrayed] you and your father so many years ago. [_What? I'm grounded?_]_

Your father…well, maybe on some level he cares, but he was destroyed by your mother's betrayal, and he's just a hollow shell in some respects, his heart ripped out by a Russian spy so many years ago and stamped on until there was nothing left, and he's unable to love you properly and that's another thing you have to blame on your mother. [_not_ enough to betray him, you had to break him as well_]_

**You've killed all the men who have ever loved you.**

Danny died because you couldn't keep your mouth shut, because you pathetically needed someone to know the truth about you. [_People aren't spies forever_.]

Noah died because you drove him to become an enemy of SD-6. [_Because I was in love…I saw that as a sign of weakness in this work.]___

Will's life has just been destroyed because he was too curious about the death of your fiancée, and because he loved you a little bit too much, even though he knew you didn't feel the same way. [_Syd... I don't love you because of what you do, or what you don't do. I just love you_.]

Vaughn died because he cared too much about you. [_I'm saying I am falling love with you._] He died because you let him love you, let him care for you, rather than just pushing him away, even though you needed him so much. You gave yourself to him, with whispered words in concrete warehouses with chain link fences, and with little glances when you thought no one was looking, and by doing things with him that forever erased the line between you. You gave yourself to him after you used him, and after he used you, and after you told him you were sorry [_Sorry for coming into your life, sorry for screwing up your perfect, normal world_] you told him that you loved him, and it was then that you knew that this would only end in pain. Maybe, you think, if you never told him that you loved him, maybe, just maybe, none of this would ever have happened. 

But you weren't strong enough. You weren't strong enough to push him away, to hide your love, to deny your needs, to make him hate you, or at least be reassigned so you'd have meetings with someone that you wouldn't be constantly fantasizing what it would be like to push them up against that chain link fence and kiss them until neither of you knew what your names were, until neither of you remembered anything about your life [_because forgetting would be a welcome thing…forgetting would be bliss_]. But you weren't strong enough, and now he's dead because of that. He's dead, because of you. 

You needed him too much, and you couldn't let him go even though you knew you would end up killing him like all the others, because in the end all you are is a black widow spider, at once fascinating [_like moths to a lamp they go_] and deadly [_eats her lovers_]. 

You didn't go to his funeral. You couldn't stand to watch as they buried an empty coffin. Couldn't stand their glances when they think you're not watching, shouting [_this is **your**** _fault_]. **_

Eric [_I called him Balls of Steel, he told you] came to see you, came to see if you were all right, to let you know they had a team in Taipei looking for him. [_I UNDERSTAND THAT! He's my friend, too!_] You knew that he was just taking the company line, just trying to make you feel better. But at the same time you could see in his eyes the hate he felt despite himself. [__You killed him. He was my best friend, and he was a good man and you killed him and you took him away from us and you took away my best friend and you killed him. **You killed him!**]_

You couldn't stand to see his mother there, crying over the son she lost to the daughter like she lost her husband so many years ago to the mother. Like mother, like daughter. Vaughn men die at the hands of Bristow women. But Vaughn's dead. And he left no sons to die. And you will die childless and alone, right here. 

That's one thing you're thankful for. The tradition stops here. You will kill no more that you love. 

You are a literature student in one life. You studied Oscar Wilde well. A poem that you always found depressing and hard to understand comes to mind now.

_For each man kills the thing he loves/ ..By each let this be heard/Some do it with a bitter look/Some, with a flattering word./The coward does it with a kiss/The brave man, with a sword!_

Now you understand the words. More than understand, in a way. You _are the words. You've killed all that you love, as a coward and as a brave man [_Danny, with a kiss/Noah with a sword/Vaughn with kisses and water and swords and guns and everything in between_]. _

You've killed everything that you love. But this is where it ends. Right here, right now, this is where you will end it all. 

Your hands are still on the gun, and it's still raised to your head. 

…._His hands on yours, that night on the pier…When you're at your absolute lowest, at your most depressed, just remember that you can always... you know. You got my number…. _

He said he'd always be there for you. [_my__ guardian angel] He said he loved you. He said he'd break into the Vatican with you. But he's not here now, is he? He's not here when you need him most, because you killed him because he was always there and because he said he'd go with you to Taipei, and…and you killed him. _

Why can't he go away? All you can see in your head is him.

_…Together at the warehouse, the first time you kissed, when you finally felt everything and nothing and you felt free even for a little while and it was everything that you needed and nothing that you wanted and it was good and you needed him so badly…_

_…then in the bloodmobile, the way he traced your cheek with the tip of his finger, how he breathed gently on your neck, until you were nearly begging him then stood up and told you that this wasn't about your ghosts, that this was about you and him…and you told him that you wanted him because you did, oh so badly you wanted him and you needed him and you had to have him to take away the pain and the blood and when you were with him you didn't see the stains on your hands because nothing else mattered with him…_

_…the last time, in the warehouse again, when you told him that you were falling in love with him, and he knew as well as you that you were lying, that you already were in love with him, because he was already in love with you as well…and you lay in his arms and you felt safe, and snug, and the world didn't matter anymore, and time passed by and you didn't care, because this was you, and this was him, this was Vaughn, this was the man you loved, and you didn't care then that you were going to kill him, because that was something you thought about only when you were apart from him, because when you were with him nothing mattered…_

All you see is him. His death, his life, his love. 

Your hands tremble a little as you raise the gun once more to your head and prepare to pull the trigger. It ends here.

Peace. And no blood on your hands. 

_No more blood on my hands. You like the sound of that. So you prepare to be nothing, and begin to apply pressure to the trigger.  _

Your beeper goes off. _[you just threw your beeper into the Pacific_] Damnit, does everything have to remind you of him? 

You put the gun down. You don't know why you didn't just finish it there, once and for all. But he haunts you too much still. Everything you see, everything you touch, everything that you are, every part of you. You thought it was bad enough with Danny, being moved to tears every time you heard that stupid song…now everything that you see reminds you of him. Posters for the Kings. [_You're a Kings fan, aren't you?...the pen in your briefcase_] Golf. Bugs. [_What are you, twelve years old?] Pizza places. [__Joey's Pizza?] Picture frames __[I got you a present.] _

Everything reminds you of him.

You can't bring yourself to put the gun back to your head. He won't let you.

You look at your beeper. It's your father. 

You dial his number, and he answers promptly. 

  
"Bristow."

"You paged me?"

  
"Ah, yes, Sydney. Sloane's sending you on a mission to France."

"What's in France?"

"One of Khasinau's men, Ravais, has a property there. Sloane wants you to put a bug in his office. You have a briefing at SD-6 in half an hour, and one with Weiss an hour later."

"Got it. Thanks." And with that, you disconnect the line, and look at the gun in your hand.

You're going to France. 

He was born in France, you know. He has a French mother and an American father. He lived there for a few years after his father died [_after your mother made him one of those stars_]. 

He's a ghost you can't escape, and a ghost that won't let you die.

* * *

You've planted the bug, and you're on the way home, [_home? What is home these days besides a place with more lies?_] when you see a man that you saw in Taipei after you had escaped from your mother. [_it__ was an unreinforced aluminium chair… I wedged it against a water valve to put stress on the weld points….__getting past the door was harder]. He had been part of the hazmat team cleaning up the mess you had caused. [__There was a hazmat team cleaning up the mess, testing the water. I stole a suit and went in.]_

You're tired, so very tired. You're tired of lies, and you're tired of loss, and of having blood on your hands, and you're tired of loving people who you hurt, because that's all you do to them. But most of all you're tired of life itself. You want to die, but his ghosts [_all your ghosts_] won't let you. They beckon you, all three men, like the wise men you heard about at Sunday school, all three standing there, haunting you, beckoning you down the stairs behind the man you remember from Taipei. 

So you go down the stairs, because you're too tired to fight your ghosts anymore, and you make yourself invisible and you watch Khasinau with a saw working on something [_someone] and so you duck behind a corridor and you see who he's working on, and your heart stops._

It's him.

And then you're back in the ocean, as so many unnamed emotions rush throughout you, so many conflicting, fleeting thoughts…

_You saw him die._

_You watched it, over and over and over and over again until you put a gun to your head to get you out of the nightmare and then you realised that it wasn't a nightmare, it was your life…_

_He's alive. Oh God, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive…**he's alive****.**_

You look at your hands. 

Blood once there is now gone.

You finally have the chance to purge your sins, to appease the devils inside. 

You can save him.

And you do. 

And at the same time you're saving yourself as well, because he's alive, and you don't want to die anymore, and he's alive and you have a rock again, and he's alive, and you have something to hold onto, someone to make you free again, someone to be free for, someone to love and hold, someone to live for. 

He's alive.

And in the process of saving him, you save yourself.

_Please read and review!_

_  
And yes, **EgyptianKat****, **_passion can_ _mean many different things. Suffering, desire, want, love…as I said, a very versatile word. Bu the first two meanings there are what this story's about – suffering and desire [read: love]_. _

_So.__ Yes. Please read and review! Please, please, please!_

_  
Em _


	4. Liberation

AUTHOR'S NOTES -   
TIMEPERIOD - During "The Enemy Walks In", and immediately following the previous chapter.  
DISCLAIMER - I don't own the characters or the show! Bad Robot, ABC and JJ Abrams do! The line _"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world"_ is from "The Second Coming" by W.B. Yeats. So I don't own that either. :D****

**Evolution**

_Liberation_

You saved him, and you saved yourself.

He's alive. He's alive, and you're alive, and you know that nothing else matters besides that.

You can tell he's hurting, and he's sore and in pain, and all you want to do is hug him and hold him and kiss him better and tell him that everything will be all right.

But instead you jab a large syringe full of adrenaline into his chest and get him out of the hellhole that Ravias calls a home. He sits up suddenly [_Uh…Syd, don't do that_] and you pull him up and out, and then you start to run and he's behind you and you're running from the guards chasing you and you're running, just running, and he's right behind you, and everything feels so right, just the two of you running from everything…the lies, the pain, the grief. 

You finally stop running, and he just looks at you, and you just say "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again, and then you're in tears and he's holding you and kissing you and lifting your chin and looking into your eyes and asking you what you have to be sorry for.

"I nearly got you killed! I thought that I _had_ gotten you killed!"

"What? Syd, you are not responsible for my actions! I knew the risks before I decided to come with you on this mission!" He's a little angry now, but not so much at you as what you think and the people who have made you think what you do.

"I kill everyone I love, Vaughn. I'll kill you if you stay with me long enough." You utter these words in a choked voice, half-sobbing, half-crying.

"Sydney. Look at me." This is a command, not a request, not a politely phrased instruction. His voice is firm, and you do as he says, and look at him, while trying not to drown in his eyes, liquid green and deep enough to swim in…

You snap out of it, pulling yourself out of the fantasies you're having about ripping off the buttons of the shirt he's miraculously acquired, and you look at him.

"I don't care about your ghosts. I don't care about the blood you think you've got on your hands. I don't care that you think that you'll kill me, because I'd rather be dead than without you. I love you, Syd."

"I know," you reply in a small voice. He shakes his head, and you just grin. It's a silly grin, you know, but you're happier than you've ever been in the world, because he's there, and because he's alive, and because you never thought you'd see him again and because ten hours ago you were standing in your bedroom with a gun to your head, preparing to kill yourself. But none of that matters anymore, because he's here, and he's alive, and he's hurt but he'll live, and you're here, and nothing hurts anymore.

"Where exactly are we?"

"France."

"France? Really? France! Wow."

"Yeah. Vaughn, you get back to LA, can't you? I need to get back before Dixon realises that I've gone."

He smiles at you, and nods, and is suddenly serious. "You saved my life."

"Vaughn, I wouldn't have had to save it if you hadn't have come with me!"

"We'll talk about this later. I'll see you back in LA, all right?"

He kisses you once, and you cling to him like a drowning woman clings to a life jacket, because that's what he is, a rock for you to hold onto, the centre of your world, and without the centre, everything else falls apart [_Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold/Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world]. You are nothing without him, and he is nothing without you, but together you are anything and you are everything, and together nothing else matters, not the blood on your hands [_black widow spider/blood on your hands_], not the family history that has forever entwined your lives [_my mother killed your father…how can you look at me and not see her face?_], not the lie that you are forced to live [_how do you live like this?...You live, and you lie, and you breathe_], not the fact that you can't be normal, you can't live in his world, and he can't live in yours, not the fact that you might be killed because of the one thing in your life that feels right, feels normal, feels **real**. Nothing matters. Nothing will ever matter again. _

You draw back, only too aware of Dixon's presence a few miles away, his suspicion of you already aroused. 

"I'll see you in LA, okay?" 

And with that you're gone, and Dixon wonders why you're so happy, and you just tell him that you're looking forward to getting home.

* * *

It's the day after your return to LA before he contacts you.

"Joey's Pizza?"

Because Francie's watching, you make a show out of it for her benefit.

"This is Joey's Pizza, can I take your order please?"

"I'll have one beautiful, talented superspy, please."

You stifle a giggle. You hate the sound of your giggles. They make you feel 10 years old again.

"Your, um, pizza, will be there in an hour."

And with that you hang up, a huge grin making its way across your face. He's alright, and they've let him out of the hospital, and you can't wait to see him, and kiss him, and inspect every inch of him to make sure he's alright, and kiss his scars better…

And then suddenly you sober up, and you remember how screwed up your life is, that your best friend can't meet your…_friendloverallylove. And it hurts you, because you have all these different fragments in your life [_compartments of your life, like a good little spy_] and you want to join them all together _[you have a dream of sitting around, watching a hockey game with Vaughn, at your house, with Francie and Will, and even Weiss, but you know that it would doom you all_], fuse them all together, make the weaker parts join in a stronger whole….you want to stop having to lie to your friends. You want to stop lying. You want a real life again. You want so much. You have so many dreams for the future. They're all different, but they all involve him, and you, and no more lies, and you're free. Free to live, free to love, free to do what ever you wanted to do, [_no one to stop you from living your life_], free to just __be._

You sigh. Your dreams will have to wait. But he's alive. And that's all that matters right now.

Dreams can wait.

Vaughn, on the other hand, can't.

* * *

You almost break the speed limit getting to the warehouse [_nearly forget to check for tails, but some things are just too engrained_].

You don't speak.

This time it's not about erasing anything. It's not about forgetting the past, not about cleansing your ghosts, not about wiping away the blood on your hands.

This time it's about the feeling of your heart beating against his. 

This time it's sweet, and slow, and it's free, and you have all the time in the world.

This time it's about the future, not the past.

This time it's about being free.

This time it's about dreams.

And all you say is "Someday…"

And he understands.

Sorry it's short, but that's the way the chapter ended up….

However, the first part of the sequel [and last part of the Passion Trilogy, except for the epilogue, which will be titled "Renaissance"], now retitled "Renewal", will be up very soon – i.e. today or tomorrow. J

So, please do read and review this, and then follow me over and read and review _that_. 

Thanks for reading,

Em

  
  



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